


The Captain, The Doctor, and Cold Hands

by QueenNeehola



Category: Karneval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNeehola/pseuds/QueenNeehola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akari wasn’t sure why Hirato had even asked him to accompany him on this job; or what the job had even been, for that matter.  To the doctor, it seemed as though all they’d done was wander about in the snow for an hour and a half.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain, The Doctor, and Cold Hands

“My hands are cold.”

 

Eyebrows raised, Hirato glanced sideways at Akari.

It wasn’t often that the doctor complained about something so trivial, but sometimes Hirato’s work took him away from the Airship, and _sometimes_ Akari’s assistance was required, and _honestly_ , they’d been waiting for Airship Two to come and pick them up for at _least_ 20 minutes now; where was it!?

 

(Although, Akari wasn’t sure why Hirato had even asked him to accompany him on this job; or what the job had even _been_ , for that matter.  To the doctor, it seemed as though all they’d done was wander about in the snow for an hour and a half.)

 

And Akari _did_ look cold, Hirato thought.  Gone was his lab coat, replaced instead by a thick winter parka.  A scarf was wrapped snugly around his neck, loose ends tucked neatly inside the jacket, out of the way.

His cheeks, nose, and tips of his ears were bright red from the cold, though, and his trembling hands were strangely bare.  He rubbed them together and brought them to his mouth, breathing warm air into them.  Hirato watched this movement, then spoke up.

 

“Don’t you own any gloves that aren’t surgical?”

Akari glared at him, then seemed to deflate a bit.  He averted his eyes.  “…No, actually,” he admitted.

A small puff of laughter escaped Hirato’s lips, silent in its delivery but given away by the mist his breath made in the cold air.  This earned him another glare from the shivering doctor.

 

“Here,” Hirato said, instantly composing himself and taking a few steps around so that he stood in front of Akari.  His boots crunched softly in the snow, leaving perfectly formed footsteps in his wake. 

He held out his (gloved, toasty warm) hands.

Akari stared accusingly at the appendages, as if trying to figure out the trick that Hirato inevitably had up his sleeve this time.  “…What?” he eventually asked.

“Give me your hands,” Hirato instructed.  His face was deliberately blank as Akari studied his expression, but when he looked closer, the doctor could see a slight smile in the younger man’s eyes.

“Why?”

“Just do it.  _Please_.”  The word was almost _dripping_ with mock-politeness.

“ _Why_?”

Hirato sighed and lowered his hands again.  “You said your hands were cold, so I’m offering to warm them up.  Was it not obvious?  I thought the good doctor might be a bit quicker on the uptake.  Or has the climate here frozen your brain too, perchance?”

Akari’s cold-reddened cheeks suddenly took on an even darker hue as he flushed, half from the indignation he always showed at Hirato’s teasing, and half from embarrassment at the other’s suggestion.

“…I’m fine,” he managed to say eventually.  His voice was oddly small; _shy_ , almost.

 

“…No, you’re not.”

Wordlessly, and so swiftly that the doctor didn’t have time to react, Hirato reached forward and grasped Akari’s hands in his own.  They were _icily_ cold, Hirato could tell even through his own gloves, and the tips of Akari’s fingers were shockingly pink and probably numb.

Ignoring the doctor’s spluttered protests (“W-What are you—let go this _instant_ , you—”) and poor attempts at tugging his hands free, Hirato squeezed his frozen extremities lightly to encourage blood flow, and gently rubbed his gloved thumbs over Akari’s knuckles.

“You’ll get frostbite, you know,” he scolded teasingly.

Akari fell silent almost immediately, and simply stared at their joined hands.  There had been something...different, just now.  Beneath the regular, mocking tone that Hirato always used, there was a note of…concern?  Gentleness?  Caring?  Akari couldn’t quite tell what it had been, and it left him feeling somewhat uneasy.

“If you say so,” he eventually replied, pointedly looking away again, focusing instead on the footprints Hirato had left in the snow.

 

At that moment, they weren’t Airship Captain Hirato and Doctor Akari – they were just two people who had a strange, unexplainable relationship, holding hands in the snow.

 

The Airship seemed to arrive far too quickly after that.


End file.
